Late events in the history of our republic have indeed shaken the faith of some in regard to the permanency of our institutions. At its origin, we were united by external dangers and the common defence of our liberties. At a later period, the adjustment of foreign relations, and the development of our system of government, interested the attention of rulers and people. But now we have been for some time at peace with foreign nations—our national character has been established abroad—and the settlement of most subjects in controversy with other countries, together with the gradual extinction of the national debt, have given place to a more immediate attention to our internal concerns. Legislation on sectional interests has brought the public sentiment of the North and South into conflict. Organized opposition to the exercise of powers claimed by congress, has threatened the very permanency of the Union. But the patriotism which directed the councils of our fathers is not yet fled. The wisdom of our legislators, aided by an enlightened public sentiment, has happily averted the danger. Let us not rest in security however. The diversified interests of our wide-spread country will continue to give rise to legislation which will excite popular discontents, and conflicts of public opinion, in relation to the delegated powers of the federal government. A grievous evil confined to one portion of the Union, threatens at no distant day to test the strength of the bonds which bind us together. The tendency of the feelings beginning to be developed among our northern brethren, cannot be mistaken. Free from slavery themselves, the relations in which it stands to our citizens and our government cannot be rightly estimated by them. Abstract speculation, mistaken philanthropy, fanatic zeal in the cause of freedom, may exclaim—the rights of man must be vindicated—the crusade must be commenced against the violators of humanity—opposition must be borne down by the strong arm of government. But let the day come when a northern majority shall in madness interfere in this delicate subject, and our union as freemen is gone forever. Civil war and bloodshed will deface and destroy the beautiful proportions of the temple of freedom. The Cæsar of America will arise to bind together the disjointed fragments of the edifice with the chain of Despotism.
Means for averting these ills are to be sought. Where shall we look for them except in the general diffusion of intelligence among the people? Spread knowledge among the people, and their minds will be awakened to a due sense of the value of our free institutions. They will be quick to detect ambition, aiming under a false pretence of public utility, at private aggrandizement. They will be ready in discerning the true interests of the nation, however designing men may endeavor to blind their perception. They will cultivate that liberal, compromising spirit, which submits to partial evil for the general good. Yea, they will cherish that patriotism which in the hour of danger will stand by the republic, and seal with the blood of freemen the "esto perpetua" of the Union.
TRANSLATION.
There are few exercises of poetical talent more frequent than translations of the Odes of Horace; and there is perhaps none of these on which more men have tried their pens, than the 22d of the first book. Of all that we have ever met with, we think none superior to the following. Were it even inferior to the best efforts of the well trained pupils of Eton or Westminster, it would be interesting as the production of a Virginian. It was written some sixty years ago, as a school exercise by a pupil in the grammar school of William and Mary. We find it in the hand writing of J. Randolph of Roanoke, on the blank leaves of an old copy of Horace, where it is recorded that the age of the writer was fourteen. Comparing it with the early compositions of Pope or Byron, the reader will be apt to ask, "What became of the author?" The answer will be found in the history of the Polish wars, in which he acted a conspicuous part. Late in life he returned to his native country, and lived and died in voluntary obscurity. It is believed that few men possessed more of the confidence and esteem of the unfortunate monarch to whom he devoted his services than General Lewis Littlepage.
We have no reason to believe that these lines were ever published. They are all that remain of an extraordinary man, and we are pleased to think that by giving them a place in the Messenger, they may be preserved.
| Fuscus, the Man, whose quiet heart No conscious crimes molest, Needs not the Moor's envenomed dart, To guard his guiltless breast. Safe he may range Getulia's sands, Virtue and Peace his guides, Or where the desart Garma stands, Or famed Hydaspes glides. Late, as I ranged the Sabine Grove, Beyond my usual bounds, And, void of care, I sang my Love, In soft melodious sounds, Sudden I met, without defence, A Wolf in fierceness bred; But, awed by peaceful innocence, The savage monster fled. Not scorched Numidia's thirsty fields, Where tawny Lions feed, Nor warlike Daunia's dreary wilds, So dire a monster breed. Remove me far from cheerful day, To night and endless shades, Where not a bright celestial ray The awful gloom pervades: Or place me near the solar blaze, Beneath the burning Zone, Where no refreshing breeze allays The influence of the Sun. Still shall the memory of my Love, Her soft enchanting smile, Her charming voice, my woes remove, And all my cares beguile. |